Ally Of The Soul
by DeathFrisbee221
Summary: The Hunger Games are a reality - but this time the stakes are higher. Because every tribute has a daemon, a piece of their soul shaped into animal form, that is the one thing in the world they hold most dear. When death is the thing that will part them both forever, survival just isn't an option. And for Imogen Belacqua and her beloved daemon Kairan, fear has never been so real...
1. Chapter 1

_"...Oh, and look at that! Maddy is down, Flash taking advantage of her surprise to gain the upper hand. They're the last two competitors left in the arena and this really is a final desperate struggle for the title of this year's Hunger Games. Maddy is trying to escape, sustaining a heavy wound to the chest, but Flash is lethal with that double-headed axe. There really is no doubt about who's going to win this. Oh! Maddy's daemon has just dissipated; the last remaining tribute of District Five is out of the competition leaving Flash victorious, as this year's Hunger Games Champion-" _

I hurriedly pushed a button to turn the television off, blacking out the horrible picture of last years Hunger Games winner, his teeth bared in a savage grin and his daemon roaring triumphantly next to him. Behind the victors, Maddy's lifeless body lay crumpled in the grass, her eyes a glassy blue gazing up at the sky, and a steady river of blood trickling into a puddle around her.

I vividly remembered the Games from last year. Flash had only been thirteen, but he'd been a Career from District One, and with ruthless training he'd become a deadly opponent within the arena, easily beating the favourite from District Four, and claiming the crown of Hunger Games Victor. Even his daemon Immitis took highly aggressive forms, and the two had been an unstoppable combo.

I had managed to avoid being picked for several years, and was terrified at the thought of being chosen. There was no way I would make it through; I had no knowledge or skills of survival being the adopted daughter of District Four's mayor. The thought of dying made me shudder uncontrollably. The thought of losing my own daemon, watching him flicker out like the flame of a dying candle was unbearable. I couldn't live without him, and I often had nightmares where I woke sobbing uncontrollably, convinced that the Capitol had taken him away.

At that moment, my daemon Kairan was curled up next to me, his thick fox pelt a deep russet and umber that danced with golden highlights in the late afternoon sun. His luxurious brush twitched restlessly, and his large golden eyes watched me anxiously. He hated the Hunger Games as much as I did, and shared the same worry of being separated in the ring. I placed a soothing hand on his head, letting my fingers sink into his soft fur, and he licked me in response, giving me a little comfort against my nightmares.

I sank back into the sofa, warmth creeping up my arm from my contact with Kairan. The bright sunlight echoing in through the large bay windows made me squint through eyelashes painted gold and crimson, the pleasant colours sparking across my vision as lightning does across a stormy horizon. The warmth made me drowsy, and I had trouble remaining awake. Next to me, Kairan yawned slowly, revealing sharp white canines and the striking pink flesh of his throat and tongue, before curling even tighter.

I would've drifted gently to sleep if the door hadn't suddenly burst open. I shot up onto my feet, startled by the loud noise, just as a pheasant would do at the sound of a rifle, and Kairan fluttered to the ceiling in distress before landing on my shoulder with ruffled feathers.

A snow leopard prowled into the room, cold, blue eyes regarding me with distain, heavy paws silent on the thick carpet. A tense silence, thick as oil, smothered the room. I'd instantly recognised the prowling daemon - the powerful grace emitted by the animal was unmistakable - and the sight of her filled me with fear and dread. Kairan swooped from my shoulder, shimmering green-brown pheasant feathers highlighted in the sun for a second before melting into deep shadow-black fur. He glowered at my side, a panther coiled to strike, his fangs bared in a warning snarl. His warmth next to me gave me confidence, and I gratefully buried my fingers into the soft fur on the back of his neck.

The leopard merely sniffed at Kairan's display, sinking to the floor to wait by the doorframe for her person to appear. Her tail flicked to and fro restlessly, sunlight glancing off of her silky white fur as it would do off of snow, or cruel icicles polished to dagger points.

Her person walked in a moment later, and his mere presence made the back of my throat go dry. My hands, already clammy with apprehension, balled up into tight fists, and the knuckles soon blushed red and white.

He towered over me, eyes flashing with intelligence. His form was large and muscular, but yet he moved with a sharp poise that seemed impossible for his figure. The beginnings of a beard hid thin lips that were pressed into a disapproving line, possibly because of my disheveled appearance or the savagely snarling daemon at my knees. I smoothed the bristling ruff of fur on Kairan's neck, trying to calm him down. He cocked an enquiring ear my way, eyes still fixed on the man in front of us.

"Imogen, please try to keep your daemon under control," the man snapped, a dangerous undertone in his voice warning me to heed his command.

"Calm down, Kairan," I muttered into the panther's ear. He growled in protest, but reluctantly he shrank into a ferret, swiftly scampering along my arm to perch on my shoulder, beady black eyes fixed on the newcomer, and body stiff with hostility arched against my neck.

Oblivious to Kairan's seething hatred, the man settled back into the luxurious upholstery of a claw-footed armchair, releasing a little sigh of pleasure as he did so. I knew he had a love of all things expensive.

His dark eyes bored into me, examining my face, my hands, the casual clothes I chose to wear instead of what I was supposed to: fussy dresses hung with frills and frothy lace, made of delicate, expensive materials that would never withstand the activities I got up to on most days.

"So, Imogen…" His deep voice rumbled around the room, reverberating off of the domed ceiling, making me flinch. Kairan whispered words of comfort, whiskers tickling my cheek, and I sat up a little straighter, feeling reassured.

"Uncle Asriel," I returned.

"How are you? Have you been well looked after?" His anger had given way to a restless awkwardness, and he fumbled for things to ask me clumsily. His agitation was reflected in his daemon, who paced impatiently around his seat, pausing only to lick elegantly at a paw.

"I'm very well, thank you," I replied. The formal words spilled from my mouth stiffly, like they had to claw their way up my throat to escape off my tongue.

"What have you been getting up to in your spare time?"

"Um…" I sat in panicked silence, hurriedly hunting for something to say. "I like going on the beach, and going swimming. Sometimes I go into town." The lies tasted stale, but I couldn't tell him what I actually got up to. Somehow I had a feeling that Asriel wouldn't approve if I told him that I spent most days with my best friend Ellie, a child notorious for pickpocketing and general thievery. We often pillaged gardens and market stalls, pinching apples, biscuits, and other unattended goods before retiring to an empty harbour or hiding in the sand dunes to split our wares. I was already supplied with plenty of food, three square meals a day, and so did most people living in District Four - we were a highly prosperous district and poverty was almost non-existent - but there was something about a stolen loaf of bread which tasted far better than the stuff served at the dinner table.

"Have you made many friends?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "A few."

"And you get on well together?"

"Yes."

He sighed in exasperation at my ever-shortening answers, and the sullen mask fast-consuming my features. His daemon leaned forward to whisper urgently, and he muttered a quick response, far too quiet to reach my straining ears. She opened her mouth to utter a reply, but Uncle Asriel frowned angrily. "Enough Stelmaria, we'll discuss this later," he hissed, and she withdrew obediently, a sulky look glimmering in her eyes.

Conflicts between a person and their daemon were frequent, and Asriel had an especially rocky relationship with his own daemon, Stelmaria. I was nonplussed at this sudden outburst, and during their hurried exchange, Kairan took the chance to point something out.

"Have you noticed how tired he looks?" he said curiously.

I _had_ noticed the bruise-purple shadows beneath his eyes, and the lines deeply etched across his brow. He seemed to slouch a little more, and as I watched him, he sank back into his seat, eyes fluttering shut in complete exhaustion. I had thought nothing of it, and conveyed this opinion to Kairan who huffed in derision.

"He's been away on loads of trips, but he's never looked this tired before. Something must've happened," he whispered.

"Stop being so suspicious," I muttered in reply. Kairan was an adventurer at heart, and so was apt to make mountains out of molehills. I had experience of his suspicion, and I knew that his deductions were usually wrong.

He wrinkled his tiny ferret nose at me, and I knew he was going to continue pondering over possible explanations. This wasn't the end of it, I could tell.

"Well, I'm glad that you're healthy and happy," Asriel said, rising from his chair. His size made him look powerful and dangerous, and his eyes, glinting like polished shards of jet, only reinforced his aura of power and wealth. "I've got more business to do, so I'll be leaving for the Capitol tomorrow. Good luck with the Reaping this afternoon." A sudden sadness appeared in his eyes, and I felt an aching pang of jealousy. He was probably remembering Lyra, his real daughter.

She'd been killed in a Hunger Games several years ago, aged only thirteen. From what I remembered, she'd been taken in by the Career pack, and then stabbed in the back by one of her own allies. He'd adopted me soon after, which was why I called him uncle, so I'd never met her properly, but before I'd often seen her racing around town with the local street urchins, blonde hair framing a stubborn scowl, with burning blue eyes that had the haughty glare of an aristocrat. Her daemon had been the same: wild, rebellious, and scruffy, a personality that had never suited the embellished name of Pantalaimon.

"Thank you, uncle," I said, the words choking out of my throat. I'd almost forgotten about the Reaping. It always came too quickly; as soon as one ended where, much to my relief, my name remained safely within one of the glass choosing bowls, the next one reared its ugly head, bringing with it uncertainty and fear for all of the Districts in Panem.

Kairan mewled anxiously from my shoulder, sliding down my shoulder to perch on a proffered wrist. "It'll be okay," I whispered, knowing exactly the cause of his distress. 'We'll get through it, I swear."

He pushed his head up into my chin, eyes shut in complete bliss. I gave him a quick scratch, on the soft part of his neck where he liked it best, no matter what form he was in. I looked up, as it was only polite to wish my uncle well on his trip, only to see that he was standing over me, watching the exchange between Kairan and myself with what I could only describe as amusement.

I was enraged. How dare he watch a private conversation between myself and Kairan! Daemons only ever rarely spoke a person other than their particular person, but when someone else listened in on a conversation between a person and their own daemon, a part of their own soul, it was regarded the height of bad manners, almost as bad as the taboo of touching someone else's daemon.

"How dare you!" I gasped, and Kairan, sensing my indignation, immediately launched himself at Uncle Asriel's face in a torrent of fury, a whirlwind of flashing feathers and slicing talons, beak open in a silent scream. Asriel stood completely still, never flinching, eyes locked with those of the eagle daemon. I could feel Kairan's frustration, the hurt he wanted to inflict and yet he could not; the taboo held him back. Instead, he swooped at Stelmaria, eyes wide with malice, and Asriel's mask immediately crumbled as he felt the fear of his daemon pierce his heart.

Stelmaria snarled, ducking low to avoid Kairan's swirling talons, before leaping up to claw at the air where he'd been seconds before. He circled over her head, mockingly diving to tweak at her ear or tail before swooping out of harm's way. Beneath, Stelmaria spat and clawed, fur bristling and her fangs bared.

"STOP!" Asriel's voice rang in my ears, and both daemons stopped in astonishment before backing away from eachother, hackles lowering. Kairan flew to my shoulder, and I flicked him a quick smile which he returned with warm eyes.

"I cans see that you and your daemon are just as wild as before," Asriel raged, spittle flying from his angry words. "It's time you learned to control your temper and found some manners!" With that he stormed from the room, his daemon pressing against his knees, giving Kairan one more look of pure hatred before following her person.

I sighed heavily, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. Most of our meetings ended like this - our personalities were too similar, they clashed together like two angry dogs going for each other's throats. I think that was why he adopted me in the first place. Instead of going for any of the cute girls with pigtails and pinafores and gamboling kitten or puppy daemons, he chose to take in me, the sulking child in the corner with the scruffy fox for a soul. Maybe he liked the competition, but I could never tell - I never knew what went on inside his head.

We sat in a tense silence, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking, neither of us touching. Kairan lounged next to me over the silken cushions, back in his favourite fox form. His auburn fur glowed in spears of sunlight thrown through the glass. Eventually, I climbed to my feet, pacing backwards and forwards over the sun-soaked carpet.

Kairan was the first to break the silence. "Stop pacing, you're making me nervous." His tail twitched uneasily, ears flicking backwards and forwards like satellite dishes.

"I can't help it. I just hate this, you know?" I glared at him fiercely, but my anger was directed at someone, or something else. "I hate the Capitol, what they make us do. Why can't we put an end to this?"

Kairan's amber eyes were flecked with fear. "Shut up! They might be listening." He got up, stretched, flowed down to the floor in a blur of gold and deep rosy chestnut. "There's nothing we can do." He pushed himself up against me, his muzzle against my hand, trying to make me calm down. But I couldn't, I just couldn't. I felt sick with apprehension. This year could be the year my name got plucked from the rest, the year I was pushed forwards to satisfy the Capitol's cruel sense of pleasure. Made to compete, to change who I was and what I stood for, or die alone and in pain.

I slouched back onto the sofa, the sun's heat so warm and gentle on my face, glinting off my eyelashes and pouring down my cheeks like tears. My daemon crept up beside me, and my fingers automatically curled into his thick, lustrous fur. My eyes sank shut, dragged by the irresistible warmth bathing my face and the gold light washing over my skin…

I woke suddenly, jerking upright like I was a puppet, and suddenly someone had pulled my strings. Kairan was on my lap, a furry grey lemur wrapped in his own black-and-white ringed tail. His orange eyes opened sleepily, and blinked a few times before yawning widely with long white teeth.

I stretched. Yawned once, twice. Let my gaze wander around the room before lazily settling on the clock perched high over the fireplace. I squinted a little. Already one o'clock? I must have fallen asleep…

One o'clock.

Oh my God.

The Reaping.

It was time.

**So, what do you think so far? Don't forget to write a review, and try the next chapter. By the way, sorry about how long it is - I kinda get carried away and end up writing about 5 pages per chapter. Oops.**


	2. Chapter 2

The square was packed. Hundreds, thousands of people, jostling for a good place to see. Daemons crawled underfoot and soared overhead, trying to get a better view, and people winced and clutched at their chests if their daemons had strayed too far, or had managed to be trod on. Some sensible people kept their daemons on them, and it was common to see a rabbit peering out of someone's coat, or a vulture sulkily hunched onto someone's shoulder.

I'd signed in, and was crowded into the ranks of the fifteen-year-olds, right next to a bored looking girl in a revealing black dress with an equally bored looking jaguar daemon sprawled at her feet. I fidgeted and squirmed in my own dress; it was a simple blue number that drew out my eyes, but was uncomfortably tight at the waist, and had a sort of corset built into the bodice that crushed my lungs. At least I had sleeves, instead of some of the stupid strapless gowns I saw around me. The shoes were the worst part though, three inch heels that I wobbled and cursed in, and that dug at my ankles.

Kairan was a jay on my shoulder to match my dress, his plumage shining in every shade of blue, from a deep sapphire at his shoulders to electric blue highlights that ran along his wings. Intelligent black eyes gave nothing away, but I could feel the nerves emanating from him, and I let him sit on my finger, whilst I smoothed his ruffled chest feathers.

The final children were hurriedly signed in and sorted into their age category, and then we stood, silent whilst the crowds of adults around us continued to chatter loudly over the stomping of many feet and rustling of clothes against clothes, all overlaid with the mixture of noises and calls coming from the daemons as they searched for their humans or talked to one another eagerly. The ground was shadowed by hundreds of bird daemons hovering overhead for a better look at the proceedings. Occasionally a few would swoop back down to their people, allowing chinks of light through, before hastily fluttering back up to fill their place. Buildings all around were encrusted with birds on every ledge, and monkeys and lemurs hanging off the balconies and creeping vines. Perched on the rooftops surrounded by daemons, masses of camera crews trained their cameras on the people below, ready to capture the action.

Finally silence fell. The only noise was the constant beating of feathery wings, or the scrabble of tiny hands as a monkey lost its grip before gaining a new handhold. A panicked squeaking came from somewhere in the crowd, followed by a loud groan, before being stifled once more. The atmosphere was electric, so heavy that it was almost palpable.

Some of the girls around me were crying. One was sobbing into the fur of her wide-eyed monkey daemon, and her cries echoed through the silence off the walls of the surrounding buildings. A lot of the children around me looked eager and excited, a few even had their fingers crossed and eyes squeezed shut. A girl in front of me silently mouthed what I assumed was an acceptance speech.

Kairan was now a parrot, hopping from foot to foot and emitting little anxious screeches. In his anxiety, he raised his handsome sea-green crest, and took off, spiralling in tight circles with his beautiful wings spread wide, before swooping back to land lightly on my shoulder.

"Relax Kairan," I hissed.

"I can't help it, Imogen. I'm scared. More scared than I've ever been before." He ruffled his wings, fidgeting nervously. "What if we get picked? What if we-"

"Shh!" At that moment, the clock struck two, bold loud strikes that rang through the air, so loud that I could feel the tremors in the earth beneath my feet.

The mayor, Asriel, was on the stage, and climbed up onto the podium. Stelmaria was close by his side, eyes impassive and cold. Her spotted fur was thick and glossy, and I noticed my uncle's hand snaking down to stroke the thick ruff of fur around her neck for a second, before pulling it back out of sight. He started to read, the speech that everyone already knew off by heart, the story of how Panem was created.

But I wasn't listening, my focus was on the two clear glass bowls at the front, right next to the podium. One for girls, one for boys.

We were entered at the age of twelve with one slip per person, and every year, the number of slips with our names on increased by one. Because I was fifteen, my name was now entered four times. Only four. It was nearly impossible for me to be chosen, as some people had to enter their names more often in exchange for rations of oil and corn given by the Capitol. A bribe which many people fell for, especially if they were low on food. But there was still a chance, and I found myself glaring enviously at the crowd of tearful twelve-year-olds who no doubt had less slips in the lottery than me.

The speech ended, and we all clapped politely, faces blank, but eyes full of emotions ready to spill over the brim onto our faces. Some were wild, flicking from side to side in a desperate attempt to find an escape. Some were smiling, eager, as their owners hardly dared breathe in case they missed the moment they were waiting for. And some eyes, like mine, were hard and determined, grimly set to plough through this ordeal to emerge victorious from the other side.

A list of past District Four victors was read out, of which about ten were still alive. Seeing as we were a Career district, some of the children trained up in combat and survival before volunteering for the Games. As such, we often won, much to parents' relief.

The ten were sitting at the front in a row of gilded chairs, some of them old and grizzled with daemons to match, haggard from the ravages of time. Others were now adults and had grown out of their childhood, but the frantic looks in their eyes revealed that they hadn't grown out of their nightmares from the arena. One or two were still only kids, one of them the victor from two years ago, a young girl with fierce blue eyes and blonde hair viciously scraped back into a complex braid. A mean-eyed falcon sat on her fist. They sat stiffly, faces void of any smiles, hands clenched around their armrests. Only the blonde girl had a smile, a rather cruel one that did not reach her eyes. She lounged on her chair rather like it was a throne. I remembered her from her Games; she'd volunteered instantly and killed in the ring with a savage glee that had made my bones shiver.

Uncle Asriel, now finished with the introductory readings, gestured to a man with pink and purple spiked hair and an expensive suit to match. Glittering tattoos curled around his ears and out across his cheekbones. It was obvious that he was from the Capitol. they had a weakness for bright colours to dye their skin and hair. They thought it looked good. We thought it looked ridiculous.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Augustus Thorn!" We clapped again. Kairan was still a parrot, and he screeched in panic. I tapped him on the beak, anxious not to draw attention to ourselves.

Augustus stepped up to the podium, a cruel smile on his face that stretched his tattoos. A tiny snake bright with jeweled colours slithered out from his sleeve to curl lazily around his fingers. Its unblinking eyes regarded the crowd. "Hello District Four, and can I say what an honour it is to be here today!" He went on with his carefully rehearsed speech, full of awful jokes that we laughed at with forced smiles. He said the same speech every year - it never changed once.

"Now, to choose our male tribute," he announced.

Finally it was the moment we'd all been dreading for months, and I suddenly felt sick with panic. Kairan was now hopping on my shoulder, flicking between forms with his anxiety. Parrot-monkey-lizard-eagle-ferret-cat-moth-marten- phoenix-butterfly-snake-mouse-rabbit, and all the while Augustus was smiling with this weird grin of anticipation as his hand plunged into the boys' bowl. He brought the ticket into the air with a flourish, and a silence fell over the entire District. Fingers were crossed, eyes were shut, prayers were said.

He opened it slowly, read out the name. "James Masroth."

A huge sigh of relief rose up from the crowd. A few boys looked angry that they weren't chosen. Others were laughing and joking now that the moment was over.

The boy who was chosen slowly made his way up to the stage, swaggering down between the roped off crowds. His daemon wheeled over his head, a savagely beaked golden eagle with yellow eyes. She screamed triumphantly at other daemons, swooping down to make a few flinch in terror before soaring upwards, eyes glittering in pleasure. Kairan squawked uneasily from my shoulder, a crow with glinting black feathers, and the eagle plunged down, eyes on my daemon, her next victim.

However, instead of ducking, Kairan croaked in outrage, and took to the air. He was a vulture, a hawk, an owl spinning and spiralling, driving his attacker off with slashing claws in a surprised haze of dishevelled feathers. He then returned to my shoulder, and uttered a single victorious cry.

The boy was no longer smiling in pleasure of his name being drawn. He stroked his daemon, who cawed piteously and fluttered her wings as if she were hurt. Only her eyes told the truth, and she fixed them on me, and Kairan, and that single glance was full of murder and the promise of blood.

I ignored her, focusing my attentions on the boy. If I were chosen, I'd either have to work with him or against him, though probably against him seeing as our daemons were now bitter rivals. He was pretty ordinary, with brown hair, and hazel eyes that glittered like his daemon's. He was tall and had broad shoulders with lean muscles, and looked pretty strong. I guessed that he'd been training for a while.

Augustus looked flustered at the sudden disruption, and sighed in relief once the boy was on the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, our male tribute. James Masroth!" He reached out a hand and James shook it with a vicious smile. The snake had vanished back up Augustus' sleeve, out of sight. I had a feeling that I shouldn't have seen it.

We all clapped, some of the boys whooping and cheering in sheer relief that they were spared. The majority wore scowls and muttered sulky curses.

But now it was our turn, and hush fell like the last time, punctured only by the loud sobs of one of the twelve-year-olds near the back.

"And finally to choose our female tribute," Augustus said.

The ticket was drawn and a loud sigh rose from the crowds in nervous expectation. And suddenly I felt like I was going to faint, and Kairan was flicking forms again, a blur of fur and feathers and scales so fast that I almost couldn't see him, and I was just hoping that I stayed safe, that someone else was chosen, that it wasn't me…

The ticket was unfolded, and the name read out.

"Ellie Fisher."

**Aha! Cliffhanger! Chapter 3 is nearly ready to be released, so I'll try and stick it on here sometime in the near future. But for the meantime, I'll leave you lot chewing your fingernails in SUSPENSE. Mwa ha ha ha ha!... **


	3. Chapter 3

Oh.

Ellie. My best friend.

She stood tall and white faced, her wildcat daemon spitting and hissing at her heels. She took a step forwards, then another, slowly, not wanting to reach the stage and so seal her fate.

I felt so confused. It couldn't be her, it just couldn't. And yet at the same time I felt a little glad that I was still safe. I was that selfish, always ready to let someone take the bullet for me, even my best friend. Even if they were unwilling.

Then Augustus spoke again. "Oh," he said in surprise, and as we all watched, Ellie suddenly frozen to the spot in case she might just be saved, the ticket in his hand fell apart. No, it didn't fall apart. Another ticket, hidden snugly in the folds of Ellie's ticket was released and fluttered gently in the air. He caught it deftly, before it had the chance to float down the the floor, and read the name scrawled upon it.

"Imogen Belacqua."

I couldn't breathe. Everything slowed down, a heartbeat out of real time. The shocked faces, the anguish in the eyes of my uncle there at the front and the way his daemon howled as if her heart had been torn apart, the almost relieved glance of Ellie, and the terror emanating from my own daemon, so strong that it hurt with an unendurable agony.

Augustus was completely shocked. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Some people shouted for him to put the names back in the bowl and choose again. He shook his head at those. Once a slip had been chosen, it could not be returned to the bowl. After a hurried discussion with some of the Peacekeepers and Asriel, he turned back to the crowd with his smile back in place, only a little forced this time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it seems that we have pulled out two female tributes," he began, forehead glimmering under a thin sheen of sweat. "And as a result, we must choose one of them to go forward. Um…" He glanced our way hesitantly. "Would either of you two like to volunteer?"

We remained stubbornly silent. Neither of us was going to go in by choice.

"Right, well... In that case, we'll go in alphabetical order," Augustus snapped, all niceties gone. He examined the two pieces of paper carefully, although I already knew with a heavy heart who would be chosen. "Imogen Belacqua, come to the stage please." He flourished the hateful piece of paper with my name on it, once more in control.

This was it. I'd been chosen.

I threw Ellie a thinly veiled glare of hatred, although I didn't quite mean it. Kairan fluttered through the air, scuttling along the ground before shoving his mouse-nose deep into Ellie's daemon's fur. The wildcat bent to nuzzle Kairan, and then pushed him away gently with a leathery paw. I held Ellie's gaze for a moment in a silent farewell.

_I will come back_, I wanted to promise. _I will win_. But I didn't know that. I probably wouldn't stand a chance, not against seasoned fighters like James, and the hoards of eager volunteers from Districts One and Two. Chances were that the only way I'd return to District Four would be in a coffin.

Numbly I stumbled forwards towards the stage. I could barely suck breath in past my corset. Beside me, Kairan had grown into a broad shouldered wolf with a charcoal stained pelt, and I buried my hand into the warm ruff of his neck, firmly twisting my fingers through his soft fur. His strength gave me the strength to keep walking, despite the spiteful whispers sparking up around me, the jeers of how I wouldn't last a day in the arena. Every eye followed me; I could feel every gaze boring into my back with an unbearable hotness. Calculating stares, resentful that I was chosen instead, judging whether I'd break down now or save it for when the cameras weren't looking. I had to prove myself now - first impressions were everything. And I was already in this game, however unwillingly, so I might as well play along.

I straightened, striding forwards with the largest illusion of confidence I could muster. I parried stares with a hostile scowl, until the challengers retreated with hot embarrassment painted red on their faces. Kairan bared his gleaming white fangs in a menacing snarl, padding at my side with steady amber eyes that warned people to keep their mouths closed or else.

We reached the front, and Kairan soared to my shoulder as a golden eagle as I climbed the steps. His shimmering feathers pummelled the air for a moment before he settled down to preening his ruffled plumage, although one bright eye was kept sharply on Augustus as he approached me.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our female tribute. Imogen Belacqua!"

The crowd clapped unenthusiastically, with a few scattered cheers. I felt like I was going to faint. Augustus offered me a hand, and I stood stupidly for a second before realising that I had to shake it. As we shook, I caught a glimpse of an armoured head with two beady black eyes, and a tiny red tongue that flickered out across Augustus' skin like a flame. The snake so close to my own hand, so close to breaking the taboo, made me snatch my hand back.

Augustus followed my gaze to his daemon, and briskly he pulled his sleeve up obscuring the miniature snake from view. Almost as if he were ashamed of it. Ashamed of his daemon? Why would anyone want to conceal their daemon? Daemons were normal, and although often people weren't happy with the form their daemon chose to settle on, they were never hidden from view. Having a daemon that had settled was something to be proud of. It proved that you'd matured, that you were an adult rather than a child.

I abandoned the niggling question, and focused on smiling as Augustus continued to ramble about rules, and laws, and how the Capitol was so wonderful. I shot a glance at my fellow tribute. He stood perfectly still, arms crossed, eyes far away, but his eagle daemon continued to shuffle restlessly on the chair behind him, her feathers rustling as she beat her magnificent wings once, twice, three times before finally becoming still. I noticed smugly that Kairan was nearly twice the size of her, although he'd changed again, trying to mimic the snake wrapped around Augustus' wrist.

I tapped his bright head sharply. "Stop it, he might see!"

He hissed in vexation, but in the end reluctantly took his place at my throat as a ferret.

"And now we have our tributes! Please," he gestured towards several free chairs behind us, "sit."

It sounded like more of a command than an invitation. I let my fingers curl around the arms of the chair, crush into the polished wood with silent panic.

Kairan had left my neck - I missed his comforting warmth - but I turned to see him perched on the back of my chair as a sea eagle, eyes half-closed as if he were about to doze off. Shining white plumage with ink-splattered wings, just like the eagles that flew above the bay and along the cliffs screaming to one another. Many a time I'd stood on the prow of one of those ancient rocks, the wind ripping at my hair and slapping my cheeks, and Kairan would soar overhead, hanging in the air as he rode the currents, calling triumphantly to the open sky. His new form gave me a little comfort, reminding me of the salty spray and blistering winds, the mirrored blue of the sea that rocked in time with the roar of the surf on the sand. Reminding me of home. Maybe I could make it. Maybe I could get through and come home triumphant.

"… and now it's time to escort our tributes to the Capitol!" The crowd cheered and I clapped politely.

Then we were ushered onto our feet, firmly shepherded forwards past loved ones and awestruck faces. Kairan had settled back onto my shoulder, and in the sudden mayhem of noise and movement, I whispered to him under my breath. "Hold your form," I whispered.

"Why?" Kairan shuffled his magnificent feathers sulkily.

"Only around the cameras and other contestants. Well, everyone here knows that you can change, but maybe the other contestants won't." A slim hope, but I wanted an advantage that perhaps the others didn't have. I was foolish not to think of it in the first place. "Save your skills for the arena. Then we'll have the advantage of surprise. You'd best pick something permanent for the next week or two."

He instantly dived from my shoulder to trot at my heels in a russet blur. Back in his comfortable fox form. I grinned. "I thought you'd go for that one," I said.

"No you didn't," he scoffed affectionately.

No, I didn't. But I wasn't about to tell him that. Anyway I loved his fox form best, but I wasn't going to tell him that either. Chances were he already knew; I wasn't quite sure how many of my thoughts he could hear.

We were bundled across a platform into the crossfire of an army of cameras, all flashing with the ferocity of the sun, and all belonging to people in elaborate clothes with rainbow hair. Everyone clamoured for our attention.

"Miss, look this way please…"

"Chance of a smile?..."

"Lovely daemon..."

"I can see the cover of this week's magazine just designing itself!"

"That lad sure looks like a winner…"

"Eye candy for the girls…"

Click after eager click. The flashes of light were making me dizzy. Kairan growled warningly, but that only made the cameras click faster. Up ahead, the train beckoned invitingly, but the Peacekeeper behind me placed a warning hand on my shoulder. We inched our way forwards at a punishingly-slow pace. All around me the buzz of people shouting my name and the whine of cameras as they captured my face over and over again.

I kept my eyes glued to the floor, my features schooled into a blank mask. Crying was a weakness. And scowling or smiling was a sign of arrogance, which would definitely get you marked down as a possible threat. Best to remain neutral, blend in with the crowd. Even Kairan was unusually subdued, trotting along at my ankles like an obedient dog. No show of emotion, unlike James' daemon who was fanning her wings vainly for the delighted crowd.

I snuck a look sideways. What was James doing? Right now, he was either a possible ally, or a definite threat. He would know me best when it came to the arena; we'd be spending a week or two in close proximity, gaging each other's weaknesses and strengths, and tactics if we could. He was preening for the cameras with his daemon perched handsomely on one muscled arm, the ideal picture of a perfect tribute. Handsome, strong, and confident. No doubt sponsors would be throwing themselves at his feet.

I needed sponsors, and quickly. I didn't have the first clue in offence, let alone defence. I would need all the help I could get. So nervously I raised my head and tried a smile. The crowd loved it. And quickly I was waving and posing for the cameras, despite feeling sick with nerves inside. I had to charm the Capitol, and the better I looked on screen, the better my chances in the arena.

We finally reached the train, and were bundled inside. I'd been on smaller, more worn trains that took fish and mussels to other, richer Districts, but this was off the scale. The walls were panelled with richly polished wood, and my feet trod a thick creamy carpet. A chandelier bobbed overhead. The furniture was all velvet and leather, and I sank back into a soft armchair by the window with a luxurious sigh, Kairan jumping up to sit on my lap.

"That was awful," I whispered whilst we were alone.

"If it's any consolation, I hated it too," he said loyally. "And I've never understood those Capitol types. They look so _funny_." His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"Funny as in ha ha, or funny as in weird?"

"Both."

"Agreed," I nodded.

"And what is it with hiding their daemons away? I didn't see a single one in that crowd."

"No. No, nor did I." I mulled on that for a second. "Who'd be embarrassed of their own daemon? It would be like being constantly ashamed of being… well, _you_."

"But they are aren't they?" he remarked sagely. "They're all trying to be people they're not with all that make-up, and those fancy clothes. It's all to hide the person they're too embarrassed to be."

"Was that _wisdom_, Kairan?"

"Maybe." He bared his teeth in a grin.

There was a violent jolt beneath me as the train started forwards, like a horse when slapped on the rump. It chuntered forwards hesitantly for a few moments, before settling into a steady rhythm. The station was already gone. Instead, I could see streets and streets of houses, and the green of the park. And along the horizon, a streak of blue that would forever be stamped in my memory. The sea. To think I may never see it again. Sadness crashed over me like a wave, and it took everything I had to keep my face clean of emotion. There might be cameras hidden anywhere.

I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. Tributes used to have an hour after the Reaping to say their farewells with family members and close friends. But after one tribute went mad with panic and started attacking his sister in the hopes that they could swap places, the Capitol had hastily decided that the sooner the tributes were on the train, the better. How could Asriel bear it? First Lyra, and then me. A thought crept unbidden into my head, an image of Asriel strolling into an orphanage and picking the smiling blonde toddler with the cute kitten daemon to fill the hole in his home where I'd once been.

I ripped the idea from my head with an agonised groan, leaning against the cool glass. I would get home, somehow. I wouldn't let some random child take my place as easily as someone might replace a broken vase or a dead battery.

The door slid open with a hiss, and a crowd walked in, headed by Augustus who was talking enthusiastically about training and sponsorship deals. He fell onto a sofa opposite me, and grinning broadly, patted the free space next to him. James came over, and sat down, glowering at me in acknowledgement. What a pleasant boy.

"You guys were great!" Augustus exclaimed. "The cameras loved you both! We'll be getting sponsor deals in before the Games have even started!"

I tried to look pleased.

"Now, I've selected a training partner for each of you," Augustus continued. "James, you'll be working with Zale."

A black man appeared from behind me, and grimly shook James' hand. A scorpion sat on his wrist. I eyed him up curiously; he was tall and muscled so he'd clearly stayed in shape. A thick, ridged scar ran down from his temple to a point beneath his chin, raking right across one eye socket. Only one eye regarded us cooly; the other was misted over slightly, and stared blindly ahead.

"Good to meet you," James said. His daemon screeched approval.

"And Imogen," I flinched as Augustus said my name, "you'll be working with Kendra."

I looked round expectantly. The first thing I saw was _hair_. Long blonde curls that fell down her back and a fringe that masked her eyes. She swept it back gracefully to regard me with a beaming white smile and keen green eyes.

What surprised me was her daemon. I'd imagine him to be something beautiful like a jewel-winged butterfly, or a soft rabbit with dewy eyes. Instead she had the biggest owl I had ever seen on her shoulder, fierce orange eyes glaring at me from a soft grey face. He was gorgeous, I had to admit, but in a mean, ruthless sort of way. I had to remind myself that Kendra had won the Hunger Games for a reason completely unconnected with her complexion.

"Hello," she said.

"Um… hi."

Her daemon screamed, making me jump backwards in shock. Kairan growled threateningly.

"Adrastos, hush!" The owl shuffled his feathers sulkily, but kept his beak shut.

"Well, now you're all introduced, I think it's time for a spot of lunch," Augustus beamed, gesturing to the table behind him, in a rush to dismantle the uneasy atmosphere, the sort that bridges between two strangers with no idea of what to say. And there were five strangers in the room, so you can imagine that the ambience was positively stifling.

We all sat, James and Zale engaging in a somewhat tentative conversation. Kendra smiled in my direction, but my mouth remained firmly clamped shut.

The food came in courses, each dish almost too beautiful to eat. There were bowls of a thick vegetable soup, then some sort of meat dish with mounds of vegetables and steaming gravy, and finally a creamy, multicoloured desert in a thin stemmed glass. It was all absolutely delicious, and despite the fact that we ate pretty well within our own District, it was all I could do to eat at a politely measured pace.

I realised with slight unease that the daemons got nothing. At home, Kairan would eat at the table beside me, since he was essentially human in all but his form (and manners). But here, no food was served to them, and I noticed how Augustus' lips pursed with disapproval when I passed Kairan scraps of food from my own plate.

At last the meal was over. I was eager to escape the awkward formality that I'd donned for the meal like an expensive dress.

We'd each been assigned a set of rooms; a large bedroom with a bathroom tacked onto it, plus the most enormous room I'd ever seen entirely dedicated to clothes. I sighed in contentment as I stretched out over the silken sheets, after exchanging my dress for a loose shirt and pair of jeans, each a disconcertingly perfect fit. The shoes had been kicked into a corner without much ceremony.

Kairan curled up by my side, and nuzzled his nose into the crook of my elbow. "This is the life," he sighed.

"Is it?"

His eyes shut as he abandoned the false sense of cheeriness. "No. Not really."

I bit the inside of my cheek - hard - as homesickness threatened to overwhelm me. Longing for a home that statistically I would never live long enough to see ever again. When I inevitably returned, it would be in a coffin. "I want to go home," I whispered.

His rough tongue rasped against the inside of my wrist in an attempt of comfort. "So do I."

"Why do they even bother with all of… this?" I threw my free hand in the air angrily. "As if in some way it'll make up for what's coming? 'Oh yes, sorry, did we mention? You'll be made to fight to the death in a week's time, but in the meantime have a slice of cake and as many clothes as you want'!" A laughed shaded with hysteria bubbled out of my throat, and with it all the tears that I'd held back, the sobs of frustration and despair that I'd bottled in front of the cameras.

In a way, it made it worse. All the ceremony, the glitter, how everything had been made so amazing. Like this was some sort of honour, when instead I was an unwilling pawn in the Capitol's vindictive scheme.

Through the film of tears, a savage, almost excited, grin grew across my face. They wanted me to play, right? Then I would play. But not by the rules. I was going to play as dirtily as humanly possible. And I was going to _win_.

Kairan looked up at me with enquiring eyes. Soft, puppy eyes.

His reluctance to change had once been an annoyance, and almost embarrassing. But here, now, it might just be the perfect asset for the arena.

"You're our advantage," I whispered. "And together, we're going to beat the Capitol."

He grinned, back in his fox form, and his amber eyes glittered with mischief. "What did you have in mind?"


End file.
